


Judgment & Release

by Fleurisse



Category: Changeling: the Dreaming
Genre: Courtroom Drama, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23113621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleurisse/pseuds/Fleurisse
Relationships: Andrés Cifuentes Montijo & Nils Kristiansen, Yusri Williams & Nils Kristiansen, Yusri Williams / Andrés Cifuentes Montijo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Judgment & Release

“All rise for the honourable Judge Bakshi.”

Yusri rose painfully to his feet, but Andrés had his back, or rather, his elbows. Once Yusri had found his balance, leaning heavily on his cane, Andrés quietly took his supporting hands away. Not for the first time, Yusri was grateful for the big man’s steadfast presence. His lawyer, Deandra Henderson, gave him an encouraging smile as well. He looked towards the judge, eyes landing, for a moment, on the defendant. Ashley Chapman wore an orange jumper, having already been remanded into prison for a Felony Class C hit-and-run. A forty-something white woman with bleached blonde hair and a fading tan, she looked scared and lonely. Her husband was sitting in the benches behind her, Yusri knew. Her teenaged children were not present today. His eyes slid past her uneasily and focused on the judge.

Judge Bakshi was a tiny Indian-American woman with an enormous presence. Yusri smiled quietly to himself; she was the kind of woman Shakespeare must have had in mind when he created Hermia for _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_. “Please be seated,” her voice filled the room with a calm professionalism. Yusri sat back down with Andrés’ help.

Judge Bakshi turned to the jurors’ box. Both Yusri and Mrs. Chapman had requested a jury for this civil case; Yusri before he knew the judge would be a woman of colour, and Mrs. Chapman after. “Has the jury reached a decision?”

A Hispanic man in a grey suit stepped forward. “We have, your honour.”

The bailiff took a folder from the jury foreperson and presented it to Judge Bakshi, who looked through it before passing it along to a court clerk to be read.

“In the matter of Williams versus Chapman, we the jury find for the plaintiff. For medical expenses, lost wages, and legal fees, we find that the plaintiff be awarded fifty-five thousand dollars.” There was a gasp from Ashley Chapman, and a stifled sob.

“Thank you, you may be seated. Ms. Henderson, I understand that your client has submitted a victim impact statement. Does he wish to read it, or have it read, to the court at this time?”

Yusri’s guts clenched with nerves as his lawyer turned to him and murmured “Do you still want to do this?” He felt Andrés’ hand give his shoulder a supportive squeeze. Yusri nodded, trying to swallow his anxiety. “Yes. I think I need to.”

Deandra turned back to the judge. “Yes, your honour. Mr. Williams would like to read it.”

“Very well, Mr. Williams. Proceed.”

Yusri scanned the defendant’s table to the left, then returned his gaze to the paper in his hands. He could feel all the eyes in the room boring into his back. He knew from his time on the witness stand in both the criminal proceeding and this civil one that half the sets of eyes, including Countess Luighseach’s, were sympathetic. The other half were neutral, guarded, and in the case of Mrs. Chapman’s husband, openly hostile. The butterflies in his stomach were fluttering about so wildly that he thought he might faint, but then he caught Andrés’ kind, encouraging expression and small, supportive smile. He cleared his throat.

“Your honour, people of the jury, Mrs. Chapman.” His throat closed up again as he settled his gaze on her. “On the evening of May 11, 2012, I was out jogging along the Schuster Parkway, as I had done countless evenings before. But this evening was like no other. A moment of inattention was all it took to change my life forever.

“Mrs. Chapman, I do not have children of my own, but even if it hadn’t come clear through these proceedings, I could have guessed how deeply you love yours. So, I understand the urge to answer a text from one of them. You thought your son might be in trouble. I understand that and I forgive you for that.

“The Schuster Parkway doesn’t have shoulders and there was nowhere to turn off right at that moment so you could read and answer the text. So even though I wish you had waited until you could safely pull off the road, I still understand and forgive you for that.

“I understand that when you hit me, you got frightened. I would be frightened, too, in that situation. You didn’t know what to do. You’re not a doctor and you don’t know first aid. I forgive you for that.

“What I can’t understand,” and here Yusri’s voice broke and he had to pause for a moment to collect himself. “What I can’t understand, what I’m having trouble forgiving you for, is that when you hit me, you did not stop. You did not stop to take responsibility for your actions. You did not even stop long enough to dial 911 once you were far enough away from me that you didn’t have to look at me.

“Mrs. Chapman, I could have died. I had broken ribs, a concussion, I was unconscious, I had multiple fractures of my pelvis, a ruptured bladder, and I was bleeding internally. I could have bled out if another driver had not stopped and called 911. In the weeks leading up to the criminal trial, I often asked myself ‘does she even see me as a human being?’ These trials have helped me believe that you do see me that way, but I still can’t understand how you could just leave a fellow human being to die on the side of the road. I’m not sure that I will ever understand that.

“As part of these proceedings, you’ve heard the cold, hard facts about my medical bills and the negative impact this incident has had on my livelihood. A trial has to focus on facts, not feelings, and rightly so. You deserved a fair trial, and a jury that was not swayed by emotions. You have had that trial. Now it is time for me to talk about my emotions.

“Physically, recovering from my injuries has been very difficult. I had emergency surgery to repair my bladder and stop the internal bleeding almost immediately upon my arrival at Emergency, but I was in hospital for days with an untreated broken pelvis before I was stable enough to undergo reconstructive surgery. When I finally was, they had to install multiple screws and plates to hold me together. A pelvis broken as badly as mine was is very painful. One of my nurses compared it to childbirth. Only it lasts for days and days and days.

“It’s been twelve weeks now, and as you can see, in spite of physiotherapy, I’m still not able to move normally. I have to use a cane to get around. I’m scheduled to go back in for surgery soon to have some of the hardware removed. That might help alleviate some of my discomfort, but my surgeon doesn’t know for sure. Mrs. Chapman, I am not even thirty years old, and I might need to use a cane for the rest of my life.

“Financially, the fallout of this incident for me has been difficult. I am self-employed as a clinical psychologist. I was unable to work for a good month on doctors’ orders, and even now, I am still on reduced hours. The costs for multiple surgeries, hospital stays, counselling and physiotherapy sessions has been, as you can imagine, astronomical. The bills have added significantly to my stress. The consequences of being unable to work full-time have, too: I have lost some clients from my practice because their needs were too great to be able to wait for me to recover enough to continue helping them. And this financial distress, it’s not over yet. When I’m well enough, I will have to spend more money to rebuild my practice to where it was before the evening of May 11.

“Emotionally, the fallout of this incident for me has been the hardest of all. The court has heard that I have a past history of clinical depression. Since moving away from Atlanta in 2007 and making some other major changes in my life, I had gotten to the point where my psychiatrist thought it was safe for me to discontinue my medication. Since the accident, I have had a relapse and I am taking medication once more.

“I had nearly five years during which I was able to alleviate any mild depression symptoms I might feel on occasion simply by getting regular exercise and time outdoors. As you know, I jogged regularly as a form of self-care. Beyond that, I used to spend my time off with my friends,” he nodded at Andrés, and took heart once more from the big satyr’s presence in the courtroom, “out in the mountains or on the coast. We hiked together almost every weekend. They’re avid birders and have been trying to teach me to be one too.” His voice wavered and broke again. “I can’t do that with them anymore.

“Since May, I have some symptoms of PTSD. I feel an aversion to being on the Schuster Parkway, which makes my commutes to and from work a bit of a challenge, to say the least. I feel anxiety just being on a sidewalk, and hearing a vehicle coming up behind me triggers an intense fear response. If I did not have to leave my home to go to work and attend to my other responsibilities, I think I probably wouldn’t.

“Finally, I used to take pride in my work as a psychologist and in being able to focus one hundred percent of my attention on my clients’ needs, but since May 11, I can’t focus on work for longer than a few hours because of the pain. I’ve had to refer a number of my clients to other psychologists for their own well-being. This isn’t ideal for them. It takes courage to ask for help, and it takes time to build up a level of trust with a therapist to the point where you can really start healing. I feel like I’ve failed them because I have to focus on myself right now, and that feeling, of letting people who depend on you down, that’s about the worst feeling I've ever had.

“In spite of all this, I am hopeful still. I want you to know that, Mrs. Chapman. Because although I am struggling right now, I am still alive. And I hope that you feel hopeful, too. Your husband and your children need you to stay hopeful and strong. In time I hope we all can feel healed.

“I also want you to know that I don’t hate you. I don’t understand you, but I don’t hate you. I wish you hadn’t made the choice that led us both to this time and this place, but I don’t want you to suffer. I don’t want your husband and children to suffer. I didn’t bring you to court as any sort of vengeance. My deepest wish right now, looking at you, is that none of this had ever happened. But it did, and I wish I could afford to take care of this all by myself, but I can’t. And at the same time, it’s not right that I should be the only one to pay for your mistake. I have faith that Judge Bakshi will take all this into account before making the final ruling. I hope you can find that faith, too.” Yusri turned to the judge, hoping she got the message. “Thank you, your honour.”

~~~

The trip to Yusri’s apartment from the courthouse was a quiet one. Andrés kept glancing over at Yusri, concerned. The Eshu sat stiff and pale in the passenger seat. His face was expressionless; he looked for all the world like he was in shock. “You okay? Want to talk about it?”

The broken stillness startled Yusri. “Wha- What?” He turned his attention to Andrés; his violet eyes reflected his inner turmoil. Andrés forced himself to look back at the road lest he get Yusri into another accident.

“I thought it went well. But clearly you don’t. Want to talk about it?” Andrés repeated his offer since Yusri clearly hadn’t really heard it the first time around. Andrés did not hold much hope that Yusri would answer; he was a deeply private person who kept his thoughts and feelings as carefully hidden away as the Spanish Crown Jewels during the Napoleonic invasion.

“I… I just. One hundred thousand dollars. How is that family ever going to be able to afford that? I hoped Judge Bakshi would let them off easily.”

“Yusri. She did. Remember what Deandra said as she was prepping your case? It’s not unusual for judges to award triple what the jury suggests in cases like these, to discourage other people from being so reckless.”

“But a hundred thousand dollars… that’s a year of my earnings before taxes. The Chapmans have three kids, and she’s in jail for the next four years, leaving only Mr. Chapman’s salary― Wait, what are you doing? “

Andrés pulled into a parking lot and cut the engine. He turned in the driver’s seat, not an easy feat for a man as broad as he was, so he could direct his full attention at Yusri. “Yusri, my friend, it is because I love you that I am going to tell you to stop right there. She very nearly _killed_ you!” He could feel the tension in his shoulders, through his entire torso and down both arms to his hands, which were clenching the steering wheel hard enough that his tan knuckles were almost entirely drained of blood. It took a Herculean effort for him to open his clenched fists and rest his open hands calmly on the steering wheel. Four years in jail and a hundred thousand dollars were not nearly enough for that Chapman woman to pay her debt to Yusri and society, as far as Andrés was concerned. He was ready to say as much to Yusri, as well― But Yusri was crying? Actually crying in front of him. Andrés had never seen Yusri cry. Not when he’d spoken of his family, not when he’d been in so much pain after waking up in the hospital. “Hey. Hey. If I sound angry, I’m not angry at you… That woman, on the other hand―”

Yusri was shaking his head. “No, no, I know. I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing―”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It takes a brave man to cry. Come here.” He unbuckled his seatbelt, then Yusri’s. He opened his arms, uncertain if Yusri would accept the invitation or not. But against all odds, Yusri leaned into him. Andrés closed his arms carefully around the smaller man’s torso and pulled him close, tucking his head down carefully so as not to graze Yusri’s cheek with his horns. The steering wheel was now digging into his side, but as cramped and uncomfortable as his position currently was, it couldn’t even come close to what Yusri had been through over the past three months. So, he held his friend and let him cry, stroking Yusri’s back like his mother used to do for him when he was a little boy and hurting.

When the spasmodic sobbing of the Eshu’s slim body had subsided somewhat, Andrés heard Yusri’s muffled voice ask from the vicinity of his left pectoral muscle “Did you― Did you see how he was looking at me? Mr. Chapman? Like― Like this was all my fault, somehow.”

Andrés shook his head slightly, so conscious of his large curling horns and the proximity of Yusri’s face. “I didn’t. I’m sorry. My eyes were on you the whole time. Do you think she did hit you on purpose, after all?”

“No. No. Not her. Not anymore. I believe she really was just that wrapped up in concern about her son that she didn’t… She didn’t think about the consequences. But him…”

“But him?” Andrés prompted.

“If think he must hate me.” Yusri’s body shook with renewed grief. “I can’t help thinking… His kids. What if they believe him? That I put their mother in jail? Took away their college educations?”

“Yusri. You don’t know that’s what will happen. And kids are smart. They’re teenagers already. Hell, their oldest could be one of my students in another year or two. It’s been a while, but I believe that’s the age when kids think their parents know dick all about anything, anyway. At least I did,” Andrés chuckled lightly, hoping to soothe Yusri’s fears and maybe even cheer him up a little. “Teens these days are a lot more open-minded, too. How would they put it? ‘It’s cool to be woke.’”

Andrés felt Yusri start to pull away, so he released him from his gentle bear’s hug. Yusri’s eyes were somehow more luminous from crying. Andrés reached over to pluck Yusri’s crisply folded handkerchief from his breast pocket and offered it to him with a worried smile. Yusri half-smiled back as he took the handkerchief and wiped his eyes and nose. Too much of gentleman to put it back soiled, he crumpled it up in one hand instead. “Andrés, I know you mean well, but I don’t think anything you can say will convince me right now that a mother in jail and a huge payment are going to do anything good for that family―”

“Yusri!” Andrés couldn’t keep the exasperation from his voice as he threw himself back into his seat. “The only thing― The ONLY good thing I can say about this situation is that she didn’t weaponize her tears. You know she could have – would, likely, have if the judge had been a white man. I’ve spent― Nils and I have spent the last three months watching you come back from the brink. You don’t know how scared we were when we first got the news that you’d been hit on the Parkway. We stood vigil over you as you came out of surgery. We watched you stuck in bed, in so much pain, fading in and out of a morphine haze. It was really hit and miss for you in those first few days, you know. We could have lost you at any time. We saw you get better, only to go back into surgery. Those screws and braces coming out of you like you were in the process of being turned Borg – I’m never going to get that image out of my head. Then more surgery. We watched you take your first steps as you started physio. We’ve driven you to and from too many appointments to count. Don’t you understand that in that one moment of inattention, her life was changed, her family’s life was changed, your life was changed, absolutely… But Yusri, Nils’ and mine were, too! We’re your family! We’ve been through this with you. And if you don’t feel angry, that’s fine. But I do. I feel so angry with her for doing this to you, to us! And think of all the clients you’ve had to drop, as well – you said it yourself – that’s not great for them! The immediate accident involved just you and her, sure, but it’s like a rock thrown into a pond, sending out ripples. Some of those ripples are still spreading; some we’ll never see hit shore. She shouldn’t just get to waltz away from it all as if nothing happened! When I think about how different the world would be – how much poorer – if you had died that day, I don’t think four years and a hundred thousand dollars is enough, Yusri. I really, really don’t. You are worth so much more than that. To me, to Nils, to… to the Countess, to your clients!” He’d been hitting the steering wheel with his hands to punctuate the force of his emotions. Now, his passion spent, he shook them out before resting them lightly at eleven and one o’clock. They already felt bruised; by tonight he’d probably regret his outburst. But for now, it just felt good to get that all off his chest. He took a deep breath. He turned back to Yusri. He hadn’t known what to expect, but he did not expect the expression of surprise and uncertainty on Yusri’s face, nor his next words.

“I appreciate that you’re angry… That you’re that angry for… for me, even. I just don’t… feel it myself. So you’ll have to be angry for both of us. I’m sorry.” He wiped his eyes again with a corner of his balled-up handkerchief and sat back in his seat, staring through the windshield at pedestrians and vehicles passing by. “Now what?”

Andrés sighed and shook his head, turning the key in the ignition. “Now I take you home to your apartment, cook some supper for you, and keep you company so you don’t do something stupid.”

Yusri turned his gaze from the road back to Andrés as both men buckled up. “Stupid? Like what? You know I’m not exactly party boy currently.”

“Or ever.” Andrés grinned to take the sting out of his words while doing a shoulder check. “Stupid like look up charities to donate fifty thousand dollars to. Because I know that’s what you’re thinking right now.”

Yusri blushed. “It actually isn’t, but I’ll bite. Aside from paying off my bills, what do _you_ think I should do with it?”

“Keep it for yourself. Rainy day fund. Retirement savings or something. But realistically, I know you’re not likely to do that. So, invest it.”

“That’s… still keeping it for myself,” Yusri replied slowly, puzzled.

Andrés shook his head as he merged into a turning lane. “Invest it, and use the dividends to help people in your own way. You’re a helper, Yusri. It’s what you do. I never see you so happy as when you’re making a positive difference in someone’s life. Christ, even your holidays are all spent helping.” He smiled, remembering how they’d met.

“Maybe… Maybe I’ll take you and Nils on a cruise,” Yusri suggested with something approaching an impish look.

“Liar. You’re such a liar. Besides, I think we’d all get cabin fever on a cruise. Too scheduled. Now some sort of hop-on, hop-off adventure in Morocco or Peru? That’s more our thing.”

“Well, it _was_ , anyway…”

“You’ll get better, Yusri. You’ll see.” Andrés glanced over at Yusri, who looked sad and unconvinced. The brake lights of the car in front of him lit up so he returned his attention to the road. “You will. Now… Nils should be getting off work in an hour or so. We promised him we’d let him know how things went today. Do you want to invite him over for supper?”

Out of the corner of Andrés’ eye, he could see Yusri chewing on his lower lip. It was one of his habits when he was thinking. Before long, Yusri shook his head. “I can just text him. I’m… actually pretty tired. Peopled out. It was kind of a day. He’ll understand.” He took out his Samsung and started tapping out a message.

“Yeah. And yeah, it was.” He rolled his shoulders at a stoplight to try to work out a knot he could feel forming between them. He’d had about enough of wearing a suit. “Do you mind if we stop by my place so I can change?”

“Go ahead. It’s fine.”

Hours later, Yusri had gone to bed. Andrés sat on the couch, watching Netflix on low volume so Yusri could sleep. His iPhone roared like a bear, indicating a text from Nils. He grinned at his own little joke.

How is he, really? 

|   
  
---|---  
  
| 

Aside from feeling like the payment is too much of a hardship for that family? Hard to say. You know how he is.  
  
Yeah.

|   
  
| 

His fridge and cupboards were practically bare. I had to get groceries so I could throw together something remotely edible. But he did remember to take his meds, so score?

He’s sleeping now.  
  
But you’re still there? 

|   
  
| 

Haha. It’s not what you think. Gonna crash on his couch, though. He’s just seemed a little off since the drive home.  
  
Off how?

|   
  
| 

Really quiet.

Quieter than normal for him, I mean. He’s putting on a front, trying to convince me that nothing’s wrong.

But before he started that, he cried.  
  
He cried? 

|   
  
| 

Yeah. I was as surprised as you are.  
  
OK…

Can I do anything to help? 

|   
  
| 

Not tonight, I think. Let’s see how he is tomorrow before we decide whether we need to stage an intervention.  
  
Haha. OK.

Good night.

|   
  
| 

Good night.  
  
~~~

Yusri slept fitfully, unable to find any position that was comfortable for more than five minutes, and long before his alarm went off, he gave up trying. He checked his phone; it had been eight hours, so he could take more Tylenol. But first, he had to get out of bed. He sat up, sucking in his breath when a jolt of pain shot up his hip, and carefully swung his legs out from under his covers. He grabbed his cane from where it leaned against the bedside table and eased himself onto his feet. He stood still long enough to scratch a sudden itch and make sure no bones or ligaments were planning to go into open revolt, then hobbled to the ensuite, where he swallowed a few pills, brushed his teeth, and splashed some water on his face. Perhaps a little later in the day, if he was feeling ambitious, he’d take a shower. It took a lot to climb into the tub, though, and even sitting on the rented shower chair, he couldn’t shake the fear that he might slip and fall, rebreaking his pelvis.

The sun was starting to rise; it gave barely enough wan grey light to see by, but he knew his way around his apartment well enough that he could have navigated it blindfolded. He made it all the way to the kitchen before he realized that he was not alone. He halted in his tracks. Deep, regular breaths emanated from the couch. He knew that particular rhythm and meter from many weekends spent at Nils’ cabin.

He didn’t want to wake Andrés up. Coffee and breakfast would have to wait.

He altered course, wandering into the open-plan living room. Lying on his side, the satyr’s still form looked like nothing so much as a mountain range that had popped up overnight on one half of Yusri’s L-shaped couch. He looked comfortable enough, blissfully unaware of the damp mark spreading on the pillow below his cheek. Yusri pressed his fingers to his lips to stifle the delighted laugh that threatened to escape them. Nils would have thought nothing of snapping a photo with which to taunt Andrés, but Yusri didn’t wish to do anything so embarrassing to his friend while he was so vulnerably asleep.

The satyr wore his T-shirt and boxers, but his jeans were draped over the arm of the couch. The cheap fleece lap blanket Andrés had used as a coverlet was much too small for him, and sometime during the night it had mostly slid off. There were some goosebumps on his exposed biceps, and his hooves were uncovered. Did hooves even feel the cold like feet did? Yusri wasn’t sure. He hesitated before gently straightening the blanket to cover Andrés’ arms and hooves as much as he could. Much to Yusri’s dismay, Andrés stirred and his eyes flickered open.

“Yusri? What time is it?” the satyr mumbled groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he lifted himself ponderously up into a sitting position, blanket and all.

“Five-thirty. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just thought you might be cold.”

“’S fine… Birder, remember?” Lips closed, he ran his tongue across his teeth and grimaced. “You got any toothpaste I can borrow? Mouth tastes like the Devil’s fundament.”

“Um, sure – in my ensuite. There’re toothbrushes in the cupboard under the sink, too. Help yourself…” Now that Andrés was awake, Yusri had so many questions, not least of which was _why are you still here?_ “There’s towels in the closet at the end of the hallway…”

“Oh, yeah. A shower would be good.” Andrés rubbed self-consciously at his cheek and beard, having just noticed the wet mark on the pillow. He blushed and flashed Yusri an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Yusri had only meant a towel for washing face and hands but whatever. “I’ll… just make some coffee, after all.” As he hobbled about to return to the kitchen, Andrés bounced up energetically from the couch and grabbed his pants. While Yusri prepped the coffee maker in the kitchen, he could hear Andrés rummaging about in the linen closet. Yusri opened and closed cupboard doors looking for suitable breakfast foods but there were none. The only food in the house was the leftovers from last night, which Andrés had put away in the fridge, although Yusri had no memory of him doing that. He’d gone to bed, exhausted, right after eating.

The muffled sound of falling water down the hall announced that Andrés had started his shower. Yusri pulled some plastic containers out of the fridge and scooped some rice and a spicy lentil sauce out onto a plate, trying to process his conflicting emotions. He was embarrassed that he had had so little food in the house that Andrés had gone out and bought groceries the night before, but grateful that the satyr, who was an accomplished cook, had been kind enough to prepare a meal for him. If he were honest with himself, he probably would not have eaten last night if he’d been alone. He was mildly annoyed that Andrés had stayed the night without asking permission, and he felt strangely violated that the satyr apparently had just made himself at home. But he knew that those were overreactions. Andrés was not a stranger; he was a worried friend. Deep down, Yusri was very glad that Andrés had stayed.

He knew what he had to do; mulling it all over was one of the things that had conspired with the pain to keep him from a decent night’s sleep. He programmed the microwave for a minute and a half while he admitted to himself, once more, that he was scared. By the time he’d finished the warmed-up food, the coffee was ready and Andrés was wandering back into the living room, fully dressed but damp around the edges.

“Coffee?” Yusri offered. “I can also nuke some leftovers for you, if you’re hungry.”

“Coffee’d be great, thanks.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to come get it yourself. I haven’t yet mastered using a cane and carrying a tray simultaneously.”

“You sit down. I’ll bring everything over. Ah-ah!” Andrés wagged his finger at Yusri. “No protests.”

Chastised, Yusri helped Andrés locate everything they’d need for coffee, then shambled back to the couch and sat. Andrés deposited the tray on the coffee table between them and plunked down across from Yusri. A splash of orange light appeared on the wall behind them as the first sliver of sun broke over the horizon. Yusri sipped his coffee. Andrés sipped his.

“It’s almost like a morning at Nils’ cabin,” Yusri observed, thinking that he’d better get used to watching sunrises from his apartment rather than from a homey 1920s log cabin. The two-and-a-half-hour drive to Peshastin was more than Yusri could handle, these days.

“Or in the Semien Mountains,” Andrés smiled sideways at Yusri.

Yusri immediately felt guilty. Tears sprung into his eyes. He tried to control it, but he couldn’t hide the shakiness of his voice. “I’m so sorry. You should be there right now, not sitting here with… with me.”

“Oh, shit, no. That’s not what I meant. I was thinking of how we met. I’ll never forget the look on your face when you saw the guy you came halfway around the world to work for was another Changeling. It was like the sun rose in your eyes. And remember when we accidentally stayed up all night? Didn’t realize it until the birds started singing. Amadi was so annoyed with us for losing a whole day of research. Best three weeks in the field I’ve ever had,” Andrés smiled.

“You’re losing a whole _season_ of research because of me.”

“Not because of you. Because of that Chapman woman. Let’s place the blame where it truly lies, okay?” Andrés set his coffee down and rested his hands, palm down, on his thighs so he could fix Yusri with a very sober stare. “And I’d do it again in a flash if you or Nils needed me to. It was my choice to stay here this year, Yusri. Because I wanted to be here for you. It’s all good, okay? Amelie is more than capable of collecting any of the data I’d have collected. I’m not so integral to the study that it can’t be done without me.”

“I know, I guess. And I’m so grateful to you and Nils. I- I couldn’t have got through this without you. Either of you. But… you especially.”

The sunlight was working its way down the wall and onto the floor, growing brighter as it did. Andrés shrugged and returned his gaze, squinting, to the bank of windows along the exterior wall of Yusri’s apartment. He took another sip of his coffee. “I don’t know if that’s fair, really. Nils has helped as much as he could while working for both GardaWorld and Luighseach.”

“No. Yes, I mean. But that’s not what I was getting at. Nils is great. I’m lucky to have him for a friend. But…” Yusri paused, trying to find the right words. “He’s more… protective, while you’re more… supportive. There’s a different dynamic with him than there is with you.”

Andrés chuckled and faced Yusri again. “Occupational hazard of being friends with a clinical psychologist, eh? Free Myers-Briggs personality typing. So, am I more of an ENFP or an ESFP?”

Yusri was getting frustrated. “Right now, I’d have to say ESFP, since you’re not really _listening_.” That brought Andrés up short. Yusri immediately regretted not being able to hide the peevishness in his tone, but he could feel his pulse starting to race, and he was getting that familiar light-headedness. He rubbed his temples, and took a deep breath. “Andrés, I’m really not good at being vulnerable, and I’m really scared right now, so please just listen.”

“Okay,” the satyr replied gently. “I’m sorry. You all right?”

Yusri shook his head. His stomach was starting to churn, and he forced himself to take a few more deep breaths. “Anxiety attack.”

“Oh no,” Andrés’ tone was immediately contrite. “Can I do anything?”

Yusri shook his head slightly, focusing on his breathing.

“Okay.”

Yusri felt the satyr’s big hand settle on his back. He jerked himself away from the touch. “Don’t. Please.” Andrés flinched his hand away. Yusri knew his friend just meant to be comforting and kind, but he needed to… needed to focus.

“I’m sorry, Yusri.” Andrés sounded bewildered. “I didn’t mean to do anything to upset you…”

Yusri shook his head again, then took another deep breath before glancing up at his friend. Andrés looked so concerned. Yusri felt a wave of warmth wash over him; it gave him the tiniest respite, just long enough to catch his breath, really. He had to push on through this now, he knew. His eyes were burning again, like yesterday in the car. “You haven’t. This is just… Everything the past few months has been so overwhelming. But you’ve been so kind and patient with me through it all… You’ve done so much for me. But even before all this, I already…” No, he couldn’t do it. He drew in a shaky breath.

“You already…?” Andrés prompted, so gently, so kindly that Yusri almost broke.

“Really liked you.” No, that sounded so high-school. “I love you. But… I don’t want to wreck our friendship—”

“Wreck our friendship? By telling me that you love me?”

Yusri nodded, feeling miserable. He hated the shame that always came with crying, so he tried to hold it all in, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t any more. “Because of Nils? And because I’m ace? And… and because spending time with you two is… the best thing that I have. I couldn’t risk telling you, and losing that. And I should have told you then, I know, because now I’m…” He glanced down at his body in despair. “Well, I’m this. Broken. Physically, not just emotionally. And because I’m t—”

Yusri was silenced by Andrés’ finger on his lips. He stared up at the satyr, terrified of the rejection he knew must be coming, as it had in the past.

“Yusri, may I kiss you?” Andrés’ eyes shone, not with the glinting anger that Yusri’s parents’ had held, but with compassion, humility, respect, and… love. Yusri felt his heart skip a beat. He nodded slowly, hesitantly, tensing as the satyr slid his calloused hand down to Yusri’s jawline and leaned closer for a kiss. Andrés paused, fixing Yusri with a questioning gaze. Yusri gathered his courage and nodded.

It was a short first kiss, but a sweet one. Andrés’ lips tasted, unsurprisingly, of coffee, but they were soft and gentle and set butterflies a-fluttering in Yusri’s belly. When Andrés had pulled back far enough that he could gauge Yusri’s reaction, his eyebrows were raised attentively. “Was that all right?” Yusri’s cheeks felt warm as he nodded, and Andrés smiled, closing in again for another kiss. This one lasted somewhat longer. Andrés was grinning like a cat among pigeons when he finally pulled away, sliding his hands down to tenderly clasp Yusri’s. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

“You have?” Yusri asked, feeling rather dazed.

“For as long as our trio’s been Two Bears and a Twink,” he agreed, lips twitching into a mischievous smirk.

“I’m not a twink,” Yusri protested wearily; it had been a long-running point of contention for him since Nils and Andrés had come up with the moniker for their friend group a year and a half ago. Or was it two years now? “Unless you bend the definition to the point of absurdity.”

“You’re small, you’re adorable, and you’re a dude who just kissed a dude. Sounds like a twink to me.”

Yusri sighed; Andrés looked so delighted with himself. “Fine… For you, I’m a twink.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

“No, I guess not.”

“I’m really glad you told me, Yusri. I’m proud of you. It was obviously not easy for you to do, but I hope you know that you can talk to me whenever, about whatever you need to talk about. I’m not going to turn you away. You’re my friend, and I love you.”

Yusri smiled. His eyes were tearing up again, but he felt no shame this time. Only release.

“Aw, come here.” Yusri allowed Andrés to gather him into his arms and hold him, as he’d done on the car ride home yesterday. It was such a strange and novel thing, to feel vulnerable, and to feel completely safe in that vulnerability. To feel that someone cared.

~~~

Yusri was a warm but comfortable weight curled up against Andrés’ flank, his head heavy on Andrés’ chest. His chest rose and fell regularly. He’d cried until he couldn’t anymore, strung out by the accident and the court cases and his fears that he’d never be able to spend a weekend at Nils’ cabin or go on a hike with his friends again. He’d chatted with Andrés for a little while after that until, exhausted, he had fallen asleep. Andrés watched him for a few minutes, feeling extraordinarily lucky and blessed that Yusri returned his affections. Eventually, his arm would succumb to pins and needles under Yusri’s weight, he knew, and he’d have to disturb the Eshu’s slumber, but for now, he meant to just enjoy the turn their lives had taken. He planted a little kiss on sleeping Yusri’s temple, then pulled out his phone to snap a selfie. On a whim, he sent it to Nils with the caption “So this happened.” He muted the phone so if Nils answered, the bear growl wouldn’t wake Yusri.

It didn’t take long for the phone to vibrate.

WHAAAT? Is this for real? Or are you taking advantage of him since he can’t run?

|   
  
---|---  
  
| 

Kithist! And ableist!

It’s for real.

Well, we’re going to give it the good old college try, anyway. :)  
  
WowWowWow. So happy for you! <3

|   
  
| 

Make sure you tell him that, will you? He’s worried that you might feel unhappy? Left out?

P. sure threesomes are out, though, so don’t go getting any ideas.  
  
LOL. Yeah, no thanks.

|   
  
| 

I AM going to humbly request at least one night a week for date nights without you, though. Just so you know.  
  
Sure. As long as it’s a week night. You don’t want to be responsible for breaking up Two Bears and a Twink movie nights or game nights, do you?

|   
  
| 

Haha.

No. I know you’d probably break me in two if I did anything so foolish.

Plus weekends at your cabin!  
  
Ooooh… Right. Hadn’t thought of that. Think you two can keep it down on the pullout couch?

|   
  
| 

Doubt you need to worry about that… We’re going to take things slow.

… I am about to commit sacrilege… Moving a sleeping Yusri seems even worse than moving a sleeping cat. He didn’t sleep well last night, but I can no longer feel my arm.  
  
OK. Well good luck with that.

|   
  
| 

I’m also starving, come to think of it…  
  
Take him out for brunch? It’s not too late.

|   
  
| 

Yeah, we should. Once he’s had a good sleep. There’s always those 24hr breakfast places if necessary. ;D

Think I’m gonna spend the day with him. Don’t wanna leave.  
  
Awww.

You two are adorbs together, btw.

|   
  
| 

*blush*  
  
Ugh, gotta go. Have a great day!

|   
  
| 

You too. <3


End file.
